Coffee
by JLvE
Summary: Andy is a barista.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I do not owe anything. All mistakes are mine. I do, however, hope you enjoy.  
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_Behind every successful woman is a substantial amount of coffee – Stephanie Piro -_

The house was empty. Or actually, she felt empty, and it reflected on the house. The girls were at The house was empty. Or actually, she felt empty, and it reflected on the house. The girls were at their fathers, and normally she liked the solace of a fortress of her own. No one to disappoint her, no one to kiss the ground off the floor she walked. But lately she got the tugging sensation of emptiness at the edges of her mood. Work had never seemed so, dare she say… dull. The models sparkless, the pages grey. Like someone had flattened all her incoming sensations. Browsing through the book she sighed, this would not do. She could not afford a mishap, for Irv would be breathing in her neck loving to eliminate her, but working in this set of mind wouldn't be productive for either her or the book. Her usual measurements (fire a few, bark some orders, cut of something or someone with a glare) were fruitless, cause she could look at the book all she wanted, it wouldn't scrutinize. And she couldn't call someone just to fire them for the sake of firing. No such slip of power abuse would be tolerated by herself. She perhaps demanded a lot, but never beyond comprehendible boundaries.

No, she decided, this would not do. She needed something unusual, and if her house wouldn't provide inspiration, she would have to get it elsewhere. Grabbing her coat and purse she walked out the door. Perhaps fresh air would help. She stepped firmly on the silent streets, into the slumber of the evening.

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It was quiet. She was almost done, the café already empty, because she ushered the regulars home a bit early. Gently, but firm, to have an evening off. She needed it and it was not like Jeffrey, her boss, would complaint. Because he was never there anyway. Leaving the business practically to Andy alone. She had hired the new girls, taught them and some of them didn't even know how Jeffrey looked like. Not that he would be interested in meeting them. The only thing he was interested in was profit, and in specific the growing of it. Well, Andy had gained that. The morning (all days for the past two weeks actually) had been crazy. It seemed that every single working person in New York was ought to get coffee from "her" shop. She didn't mind, she loved the working, but her muscles were less happy. Not that she would listen to them, it just meant that she did well. But even her mind needed a short break once in a while. And Sunday evenings were silent, people prepared for the beginning of the week mostly at their homes, which meant no disaster if she closed up and had a little free-time.

She had cleaned almost everything. It was a mystery how such a small café (only 4 tables for four persons and a long dark marble counter where people could order on one part and sit at the other part) could get so dirty every day. Crumbles of croissants, wraps of candy, straws from the drinks mothers tried to give to their children. Luckily the light wood of the tables was easy to clean.

Wiping them she heard the door open. It made a dangling sound, by the clinging bells attached to the door. she always liked hearing that sound, knowing human interaction would follow soon. And even though she was tired and actually didn't feel like having another costumer, she gathered her courage to succeed one last order. _Cause even though I was closing, someone who comes at this hour, must be in real need of coffee or tea._ Then she would be done. Sleeping time. Looking up she smiled gently at the person who walked in. About two meters away stood a woman of…40?..50?, Andy couldn't determine, years or so. She wasn't that high, even with her red killerheels, but made a distant and regal appearance. Like she was royalty, or at least just as important, larger than life. She had an air of gracefulness mixed with arrogance around her. _Probably seas of people will part for you_, Andy mused. Not only because of the business suit and the impeccable posture, but also because of the Snow-white hair, surrounding an classical face with icy blue eyes. Eyes Andy lost herself in for a moment. _Definitely a heartbreaker, calculating your soul as a piece in her chessgame._ One eyebrow raised up. Cold blue looked annoyed. Andy blushed, she had definitely stared too long at the gorgeous woman. Reposing herself she started walking to the counter. 'How can I help you? We're about to close as you can see, so the food is already stored away, but I can make you coffee or tea if you want.'

The woman scanned her with a long look. Slightly pursing her lips at the sight of Andrea's blue working polo. She felt naked and uncomfortable under that stare.

'A cappuccino. Semi-skimmed.' The woman had a soft voice. Like velvet.

'I'm sorry but that is not an option.'

The woman's whole entity immediately turned into disapproval. Her glare shot daggers. So…_Not being used to being denied anything._ Still Andy held her composure and smiled again and began to explain. 'Cappuccino is a morning drank. Good for waking up, cause the combination of the deep taste of the espresso that gives you a feeling of sharp alertness, is a bit softened by the warmth and natural sweetness of whole milk. The froth layer on top suggests a lightness that fills your day. Or at least… A good cappuccino does.' She laughed and changed her posture a bit, grabbed a piston. 'But the purpose of cappuccino doesn't stretch to after half past eleven. It is how they detect tourists in Italy, apart of not speaking Italian' she winked. The sound of grinding beans echoed through the empty café. 'There is no special evening-coffee, though in your case I think a plain espresso will do.'

That seemed to be a wrong choice of words. The woman almost cut her throat with her glare. 'M-my case?' She hissed. 'Pray tell, what is your, no doubt illuminating, analyse of my case.' She almost spat the last words out.

'Well, ehm…' Andy blushed. 'I just meant… I mean, I mean that…'

The eyes of the women almost slid close, still the ice of the glare was almost physically hurting. A concentrated dose meant for Andy.

Breathing deep in and out Andy started again. She would not be humiliated in her own shop. 'I meant that you seem like an infallible woman, your appearance is flawless, your hair is perfect in model, your clothes are elegant but sober, nothing too bombastic or out of place. No offense but… Not an appearance of someone who 'wanders around' on late evenings.' A shy smile. She clicked the Piston back into the machine and pressed the button. 'You seem…too determined for that. Yet you are here, at this hour. I've never seen you before, because I would've remembered you, and you didn't say you want anything to go, so it seems that you do not need to be somewhere.' She putted two small cups underneath the coffee machine. Slowly coffee started to leap out of it into the cups. At first a thick and dark brown ray, but later on it became lighter, caramel coloured, and thinner. 'So one would think that you're looking for something, but without a fixed goal. Like you do not know exactly what you're looking for. And people who don't know what they're looking for either have too many choices or got lost within diverging main and side issue.' The flowing of coffee had stopped. She putted the cups on a plate, adding a small spoon aside, and shove one of the cups towards the woman. 'Espresso is an excellent answer for that, because it brings you back to the basic. It is what coffee essentially is all about. Taste, hotness and strength. It will bring you back to earth, or the core of things. Yet it provides a caffeine kick that refreshes your look on matters. It might not give you a goal, but it could help getting inspiration to settle your goal.' She smiled again, warmly. The woman had been listening all along. 'Here, try it, it's good. Trust me.'

The woman looked back and forth between her and the cup. Still angry, but also a bit taken aback. Yet when her eyes found Andy's she visibly shifted, closing herself up. Standing straighter than she already stood. 'Such a pleasure, to not only have a cup of coffee, but a free shrink at the same time. Just what I was waiting for. And all of it in such a glacial pace, it thrills me.' She picked up the small cup with swift elegance and drank the espresso in one time, before placing the cup back again but not on the dish, so the white porcelain made a hard clinging sound when it hit the counter. 'I must say, however, that apart of your lack of knowledge about me or my case, your assumptions are no better than your hideous cerulean working-polo. And your pathetic little talk about which coffee when or whatever you seem to think they hold as a secret power for I don't know which problem – surely not against smacking your little head on the pavement, cause you seem to be a case of that – was rather endearing but It left me out of time for pleasantries and chit-chat as I have yet to reach my _goal_ at heading home. Goodnight.' And with that she turned around, walked straight out of the shop and disappeared into the darkness of the street.

Andy watched her go with an open mouth. _Did that just happened? Did she just left without paying or at least a polite thank you? That woman was a downright Ice queen!_ Arrogant, impolite and most definitely cutting in her remarks. _I mean, even the hotness of the cappuccino hadn't melted her air_. She absently shook her head an picked up the empty cup at the opposite of her. A little lipstick marked the rim. _So, no illusion then. _She wiped it away, dark red on her thumb. Almost innocent, nothing that pointed in the direction of the local frost she just received.

And then Andy smiled. Nevertheless, she thought, even though she cut me off my feet with just a few sentences, she hadn't said anything nasty about the coffee. And after a moment of thinking, she decided to see that as a compliment. With another smile she putted the cups in the dishwasher, cleaned the off the coffee-machine and putted it off. Time to go home.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: This is a short intermezzo. Not really a chapter. But it fell in-between. So… In a few days a longer one. Oh, and I'm probably a complete moron, but how does one add those wonderful bars between two paragraphs? You know, those thingies that make you think immediately: these parts are separated. **

That infuriating girl! _Woman. _How dare she. Denying her order. She was being corrected by a lowsy, clumsy, doe-eyed girl who was probably still wet behind her ears. Miranda's blood boiled. And then that even more infuriating analyse. All the nonsense about how cups of coffee could make her see things different. _If the coffee was spiked perhaps._ And_ yes_, It was low, her snarl. She knew that very well. After all, she had asked for an analyse in first place. But she couldn't take it that the woman had been so right about her. It was ridiculous. Like she was a cellophane paper, just to be splayed out against the sun. It took her of balance, no one (apart from her daughters) had seen her that correct, and she was perfectly fine with that. _The girl had probably been lucky anyway._

Yet, apart from her little crack in her defence, the woman had captured her with her knowledge about coffee. It had been a long time someone had fed her with information. Everybody always expected an answer from her (what shade of brown? When is the meeting? How's the collection? Please tell me I'm worthy?). They expected her to feed her followers with her decisions. She had to lead them (tug them really, at most of the time), instead of offer her a map with routes they could walk. It felt refreshing to be at the other side of the line for a short time. Such things tickled her inspiration, like she was suddenly perceiving again. Noticing again.

And ok, she admitted, only in her head, the barista had been right. It had been an awful good cup of coffee.

A little unsettled she walked home. The twenty minute walk would be enough to settle and mark the coffee-incident, she decided. So when she arrived she mentally boxed it up and left it somewhere in the loft of her brain. Time to get to the book. Glancing off her coat and bag she grabbed it and walked upstairs to her study. Her second most precious place to work. It looked warmer than her office, more dark wood, a fireplace and even a book shelve. Tugging her legs under her chair and opening the book it looked more workable then before. _So the fresh air helped, _Miranda concluded satisfied. Flipping pages she started placing well-analysed sharp post-its. She worked well into the night.

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The next morning Miranda walked into her office with a swift air. Emily walked hurriedly behind her trying to remember her list of commands. 'Switch the brown for the blue scarfs, then get me some skirts from Yves-saint Laurent, phone my ex-husband that he can have the twins for an autumn break and remind him that I'll have them for Christmas day, then tell my almost-ex-husband no, no, no no, for the fortieth time no. He will not get any money from me and make sure that he will not call me anymore for I do not negotiate with... him.' There was a slight hesitation in Miranda's picking of words. 'Then call Simone that I want new Brazilian models for the Dolce and Gabbana shoot. She send me dirty, tired and paunchy while I asked for clean athletic and smiling. They must look like fresh coffee, not like three-day-old beer. Speaking of which where is my cappuccino?'

'Y-your… Cappucino?' Emily faltered a bit in her step. Miranda _always_ wanted a semi-skimmed double shot latte without foam at morning. Cappuccino's she ordered only when she was angry and the day had been a bad day (well those were the same actually, Miranda _being _angry meant the whole building, probably the whole of New York, froze over). It was what the assistants learned first. When if everything was hopelessly failing at least you got her coffee right. A last and flimsy lifeline to hold onto in the sea of unemployment.

'Yes! You know that drink that contains out of three equal layers of espresso, warm milk and froth? I'm sure even your head is able to accomplish such a task after the endless mornings of conditioning, hm? If it is not on my desk within the next ten minutes don't bother to come back. That's all.' Miranda waved her hands. And with that, a full-blown devils week had begun.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Still don't owe anything.**

**Thank you for the reviews and favourites and follows :). **

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Mornings Andy liked best. It was that precious moment when everything was almost ready, and the only thing left would be the waiting for the costumers, that filled her with happiness. It reminded her somehow of birthday parties, when you excitingly wait for your guests, all the candy and popcorn in bowls, garlands at the ceiling, balloons all over the room. That few silent minutes where everything is ready to be unfolded, the day at your feet. Anything could happen, everything could happen.

This morning had been an bright one. Literally, with the late September sun shining through the trees, lightning up that they were starting to paint their leaves. A little cold, but the lovely fresh smell of autumn compensated that abundantly. She had been rumbling with her keys, like every morning. It was a little miracle that she was so talented at being a barista, usually her motoric skills where absent and more than once she had been described as clumsy. But behind the counter she moved smooth. She knew every corner of her shop like the back of her hand and the fast switching between coffee and pie and lunch was no problem. It made her confident. So confident, in fact, that she started to play a little game with herself called 'guess what you want'. And to her surprise she often was right, anticipating at the costumer what they would choose. Not that she always agreed, often costumers picked something she just knew wouldn't fit them. But she rested her case, it was the costumers choice, not hers. _Well, excluding the woman with the white hair. _She hadn't been able to let her choose something wrong. She didn't know why. A bit of protectiveness perhaps, if she explained the woman now, she wouldn't make a mistake later on. _Yeah, like in those three seconds she was there you made an in depth analyse of her job, her future plans, and your role in it. _Andy chuckled. A one-time slip, there were worse things in the world.

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Miranda sat in the back of the car and looked out of the window. Her gaze gliding over the streets, trying to pick up inspiration, colours bits and pieces that could transform in to fabrics and designs. There was a lot of new and fresh things that could be found at the New York streets, if you knew where to look and were able to keep an open mind and eye. The difficulty was to not get what was already there, but to look beyond what people wanted or needed, and then choose what was real. What was art, in its purest form.  
Miranda had always been that person to see further then the rest. And when she didn't, to see the persons that looked further, she had a great sense of awareness. Combined with intelligence, determination and hard work. Definitely hard work. They may called her the dragon lady and whispered that she could demand to get to the middle of the earth, snap a piece of the core and come back to use it as an accessorize for a model all within ten minutes, but she herself worked just as hard. She knew that people were not only lazy, but also scared to push their limits. Nothing as frightening to get to know parts of yourself that even you didn't knew you had. To suddenly see that where you thought you ended, you did not end at all. And that somebody was aware of that, before you were yourself.

Miranda had been determined that that would not count for her. She had worked more hours than everyone, pushing herself, climbing the ladder to become what she was now. A woman who had built something. A woman who had created a magazine from almost scratch and personally paved the way up to the top position it held nowadays. A woman people thought was more an entity, beyond human, good or bad, than a living person. She had invented herself.

It was then that Roy drove past a little blue corner. Dark blue window frames, white door and stylish and neat interior. No letters on the windows (positive), just a welcome carved in the door with opening hours underneath it. The coffee shop from a few days before. Miranda hadn't thought about the girl since. _Well, almost hadn't._ _The cappuccino in the morning told her otherwise._ In a flinch of a moment she made her decision. 'Stop the car. Pull over to the side of the street.' Roy did as she asked without a hint of surprise. He really was professional. She stepped out of the car and walked with curt steps to the door. Officially the shop wasn't open yet, but she had seen the movement of a female figure behind the glass. She decided to walk in. _After all, the coffee had not been that horrendous._

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'A cappuccino?' Andy looked defiant at the woman from a few days before. She seemed even more becoming than the other night _if that was even possible_. Somehow Andy was glad the woman had come back. She had been thinking of her quite a few times the last days. Trying to zoom in on details in her way of moving or vocalizations, but it had been too short to make clear distinctions in her analyse.

'A normal cup of coffee to go, where there is no need for your voice to reach my ears. That's all.' The woman spoke haughty, and waved with her hands, like Andy was a servant who was just dismissed. Most surprisingly of all, was the fact that she didn't even look at Andy. Not worth a glare, apparently.

Andy frowned. The cold yes, she remembered. But why bother coming back if she was utterly displeased in the first place? This wasn't a woman of second changes.

'Before afternoon, if that's not too hard for you.'

Andy grinned. Even if the woman insulted her, her voice was pleasant to hear. It almost made her slow down more, just to hear words slip past her quite lethal mouth. But then again, the next time the woman might not come back. So she started to move. But couldn't help to tease a little.

'Well, of course…' A silent question mark at the end.

'Miranda.'

'Miranda.' Andy let it roll over her lips. It was perfect, fitted the woman like the grey pinstripe suit Miranda wore today.

'Well, Miranda, that saves me an answer to my second question. You'll be getting a Lungo. Such a sour mood could use some bitterness.' She grabbed the piston from the coffee machine and held it under a grinder. While preparing the coffee she began to talk. 'You see there are two types of coffee that people refer to as 'normal' coffee. The Lungo and the so called Americano. Difference between those two is actually very big. The base of an Americano is an espresso where you add an amount of hot water, never boiled!, to make it as 'weak' as you prefer. Which means it holds its - more or less - balanced taste from the espresso. Only the amount of liquid that the taste is divided about is bigger. It's like an espresso for beginners. Did you know it is called Americano because of the American soldiers that came round WOII in Italy? They liked the espresso, but found the taste of too strong, hence the added water.' Andrea smiled at the older woman, Miranda did not smile back. Not the least discouraged she continued.

'The Lungo, on the other hand, has a very different base. It contains round and about the same amount of liquid as the Americano. Except, here the water is not added afterwards, but runs through the coffee. So the extraction time –the time water seeps through the grounded coffee- is longer, meaning more flavour of the bean is extracted into the cup. But, the more time to run through the coffee, the more the coffee is burned because of the temperature of the water, leaving an bitter taste. That's why a Lungo is more difficult to make, it easily gets too bitter, extracting too much, ruining all the other components of the bean and thus the taste. Leaving a cup full of bitterness and nothing else. Just like with humans who get hurt too much.' She laughed.

'But no worry, today's Lungo is made of Indonesian beans. Making it a bit spicy flavoured. See, it is already done.' She putted a cap on the carton

'Already?' the woman huffed. 'the amount of words you just let past your lips indicated that I could have ordered twelve cups at Starbucks.'

'Well it's a good thing that I don't work at Starbucks then.' Andy replied happily. 'Must be awful coffee there, if they serve it without conversation. That is like Coca without Cola.' Miranda turned a little white. For a second she was afraid the barista was going to say Coco and Chanel instead of Coca Cola. _Did she know who she was? She didn't think so. The flash of recognition had not slipped in those brown eyes yet, she could see._

'I wouldn't know, I am not familiar with the teeth-destroying company that tries to obese the world. But I somehow believe you right from sight.'

'Pardon?' Andy raised her eyebrows almost up till her hair. _Was she just called fat?_

'And apparently it also effects auditory ability.'

Andy stood astonished. Did this woman sell verbal attacks as a profession? She hadn't done anything wrong and still she went on and on. Beautiful voice or not, there was a line to be drawn. A bit offended she said; 'Maybe. However, it doesn't change the prices of coffee, so your cup will still be 2 bucks.'

Miranda opened her purse and pulled out a fifty dollar bill. She handed it over to Andrea. 'I believe this would be sufficient. Perhaps it encourages you to be more efficient next time.'

Andrea instinctively knew she couldn't refuse. Her stubbornness melted away. _The woman would come back. _She smiled apologetically. 'I'm afraid it will only shorten the time of payment, since you won't need to do that for the next following times. But good coffee takes time, Miranda.'

Miranda tilted her head a bit in the air. 'Then shorten the rambling and keep the coffee at an acceptable rate…'

'Andy.'

Silence.

'Well Andrea actually, but everybody calls me Andy.'

The woman seemed to decide something. She grabbed her cup, and turned around, again already walking away in a straight line. 'Do not disappoint me, an-dre-ah'. It lingered in a soft, silken voice through the air. It was the most odd and elegant way of pronouncing her name Andy had ever heard. 


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Still do not own anything :). Except for the faults and mistakes. Those are mine and mine alone. This will be the last chapter for about a week or so. Cause all the 'written ahead' 'stuff' is now, well, published. So please be patient. **

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'Did you became what you wanted?'

It was one of the evenings that Miranda dropped by. Always a little after closing time, around 21:30 she would either step out a vehicle that brought her and that would head off then, or came by foot. Andy assumed that Miranda had a work-related driver and that she lived nearby in the better part of town, which meant she had a high position of some sorts. _Applause Sherlock, like you couldn't sense that from her appearance alone._ They never talked about those things. They never talked that much. Mostly Andy talked. In the beginning about coffee or daily nonsense, or a bit of news from the papers. Miranda's reaction had been either ignorant or hurtful, but they had both known the rules, Miranda being able to lash out, Andy to keep on talking. Miranda kept coming back. And after a few weeks there had been a difference, if only minor. The cutting sentences changed, not that much from content, but rather punctuation. The point at the end was pronounced less static, sometimes leaving room for interpretation. Transforming into what could possibly be a question mark. Without asking anything or without 'warming up', Miranda had started to converse with the younger woman.

Andy had been immensely happy with this change. She had felt special at apparently being adequate enough to be given a chance to proof herself. She tried hard to be both intellectually competent as warm and welcoming instead of a stammering childlike schoolgirl who knew the answer but was afraid of the teacher. She had definitely understood the message behind Miranda's choice of action: if she failed, they hadn't actually had any conversation whatsoever. It was a mutual, silent agreement. A pact that enabled them to sharpen their souls at each other, _or rather Andy sharpening her soul at Miranda's,_ since the older woman did not only held the control but also seemed to know an astonishing lot, beating Andrea easily intellectually.

It was therefore sudden and almost strange to hear the sentence she just let slip past her lips resound in the air. They had been talking about the somewhat strange topic of an article they both had read from a scientist who was able to genetically modify the wings of a butterfly, changing it in shape and colour. An topic close to the discussion of the manufacturability of things and lives, and with that, the question if one was ultimately responsible for their own succeeding or failing. It was the first public acknowledgement of their, what was it, acquaintanceship?, and Andy looked a bit alarmed at Miranda, unsure of how it would influence this, whatever _this_ was.

A sigh. _Acknowledgement of the question._ 'Yes and no. I became what I wanted, and I've never regretted any prize I paid for it. Sacrifices that aren't worth making, should never be made. So that is what I did. Part of what you are is defined by the choices you make, and I'm not easily distracted by side tracks or secondary goals. So I succeeded.' Andy could easily understand that. Miranda looked like a woman without failure. Someone who wouldn't give up on her goal once she had it in her mind.

'It doesn't, however, mean that I am unaware of what I sacrificed. Knowledge is at times a painful reminder that even if you sometimes make the best decision, that it is not always the right decision.' Miranda took another sip of her coffee. Andrea sensed that it was all that the woman was going to say. And even if it told her a lot about Miranda, it weren't exactly facts or details. She was still in the dark about who this woman was.

'And you?' Miranda broke Andy's train of thought.

'Me?'

'Yes. You see someone else in this room?'

'Haha, lots of them, but those are from a different dimension.' The raise of an eyebrow. 'Okay, I know, lame joke.' She rubbed a spot off the counter with her towel. 'I love my job, actually. I love the interaction with the people. The stories they tell and the lives they live. I love it when I can see that a costumer is having a special day and is wearing a new dress, just because you see them that often that you unconsciously know the inside of their wardrobe. Or when a new costumer comes in and is delighted with the cappuccino.' She winked. 'Of course there are always days that you could easily empty your piston in someone's mouth because of their rudeness, or that you want to put a sign on the counter that says "yes, single, no, dirty comments. I sell coffee not myself." But overall it is a lovely job. And I wouldn't mind doing it for a little longer.'

'Until you find you absolute dreamjob.'

Andy laughed, was she that obvious? 'Yes, until I find my dreamjob.'

'Which would be…?'

'Writing. Journalism, actually. I would love to write for a newspaper or a magazine. But such a job isn't easy to obtain.'

'Do you practice your writing skills?' Miranda asked, letting her fingers glide over the cup, turning it around. Andy got a little distracted by those hands. Miranda had lovely hands. 'Well, articles are difficult, because nobody's giving me assignments, but I try to write. Mostly, describe, the things I see, hear.'

'Costumers?'

'Yes. Sometimes. But that's more the content of my diary. Stories of people and occurrences that happen, things I see in society, those I try to put into articles. Analyses.'

Miranda had the urge to ask if she had written about her in her diary. And if so, what she had written and if she could perhaps read it. But she knew very well those things were private. It was strange, but around the young woman she often felt the desire to cross the line between formal and private. In fact it was all she could do to not spill and bound with the kind-hearted beauty. A foreign sensation actually. But not unwelcome enough to ignore the first personal question Andrea had asked. She had elaborated about her values and opinion. Just as foreign, explaining. Perhaps Andrea had thought it was an impersonal and vague answer, but it was more that Miranda normally cared to share with anyone. And it would do no good to become that personal. She knew how things would develop then. She had seen and experienced it often enough. The moment the girl would know who she was and what she did she would withdraw and become formal, or fall into hero-worship and put Miranda on a statue. Miranda was not stupid, people either hated or loved her, most of the time both, and those feelings prevented to see the woman Miranda was and forced the Icon image upon her. And while maybe not personal, it was certainly precious to Miranda, these short moments of respite. It was why she kept it hidden. Only coming by when she already had to work late or when the children were at their fathers. The only person knowing was Roy, and after several years of loyal service she trusted him just enough to not mention her stops for coffee.

'Miranda?'

Miranda looked up from her thoughts. 'Yes?'

'Nothing. You just were… very far away for a moment.' The sudden intimacy of that sentence did not go unnoticed by Miranda. As if she normally was close. Which was not true, they were closer to passengers than to friends. Miranda didn't do friends anyway. _Not that the girl knew._

Andrea's eyes became more quizzical by the second. Miranda realized she hadn't answered. With a curt nod she said; 'I was. I have to go, bring some copies of your articles next time, so I can read them.' She put on her coat. Apparently she had been comfortable enough to shed it. A first. With another nod she closed her purse and looked at the younger woman again. 'Goodnight Andrea.'

Andrea smiled a genuine smile. 'Goodnight Miranda, see you next time.'


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: well, another chapter :). Longer than I'm used to. But then again, my exams are coming up, so you'll probably need to wait a little while after this one. **

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'Tales of your incompetence do not interest me, make sure you confirm Donatella for eleven thirty and have Roy pick me up at twelve thirty sharp. That's all.'

With a click Miranda's phone shut close and she walked to the furthest table in the shop. A bit hidden in the corner. Andrea was busy helping a customer. A tall man, with blond curls and what appeared to be a smooth manner of moving, she could see from his back. The type of man that took most of the world for granted, including the female part. They were blind to everything that fell outside of the world wherein they were admired. Miranda had a lively dislike of those types. They were difficult to do business with and persuasion seemed the only technique of convincing them when having difference in opinion. She disliked persuasion in such a setting. As if truth was subject to personal preferences.

She turned her back towards them and began to tap her phone, sending not that necessarily reminders of tasks to her assistants. She knew that Emily was perfectly capable of handling them without her messages, but she refused to sit and do nothing. That could be categorized as waiting, and Miranda Priestly did not wait. Ever.

She heard Andrea's voice saying goodbye to the man. No name mentioned, but a single 'see you soon'. Apparently the man came here more often. It made her purse her lips a little. She'd rather see Andrea in good company. The girl was easily influenced and it would do her no good to be under the hold of such persons, male or female.

The doorbells jingled as a sign that he left. She looked up from her screen only to see Andrea taking the seat opposite to her. Her ever warm smile as a welcome.

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She was fetching Christians espresso with sugar to go when Miranda walked in talking on her phone. Without a greeting or a glance she walked to the table in the back. Andy took it as a sign to not disturb her and rounded up her conversation with the grinning man. He always made comments a little cross the line. His smile not making it any better. She tried to be polite but distant, saying 'see you soon' rather than mentioning his name. That would only encourage him to get personal even more. When he walked away she looked at Miranda. Her lips were slightly pursed, as if she was dissatisfied with something. Walking over Miranda took her eyes from her phone. _Unbearably blue, yet I always feel welcome_. She smiled without noticing herself.

'You look like you could use a cigarette.' It was true. Although looking perfect as ever, the woman had slight dark circles beneath her eyes, and she seemed to radiate a bit of uncomfortableness. As if something took a great deal of energy.

'I used to smoke sometime. Back in the days when it was sexy.' A small but tired grin appeared on Miranda's face. It made Andy hold her breath a second. Miranda was sexy as hell; with or without cigarette.

'You're right though. I should stop… fidgeting. I haven't done that outside of home for over twenty years, I think. Caroline hates it when I do it. Gets her annoyed. Her short temper she inherited from me, unfortunately.' She talked like she wasn't aware that Andrea was still there. Staring at something behind Andy's shoulder. But at the end she looked abruptly up. Andy smiled.

'Caroline is your… daughter?'

'Yes. One of them,' and before Andy could ask 'I've two. Cassidy and Caroline. They're twins. The best girls a mother could hope for, really. My precious little devils. I often wish I could spent more time with them. Try to be home for dinner at least 4 times a week. It is difficult actually, sometimes I have to return to the office afterwards.'

That woman had one hell of a job, Andy thought. She didn't dare asked what she did, last time Miranda had been clear in not wanting to talk about it.

'Tell me about them. I mean, if you want to of course.'

Miranda looked a bit surprised at Andy, only finding sincere interest in her eyes. _She really wants me to talk about my girls._ 'Well, Caroline is the oldest, by 3 minutes, but apparently that shows itself in maturity. She is a serious girl, a worrier just like me. It would do better if she was a bit more carefree, but I am not good at giving an example at that, as you probably do not find hard to imagine.' Miranda side glanced at Andrea. The girl was listening intentionally. It was a surprisingly adorable sight. _That girl could melt even the coldest stone. _'Her sister on the other hand, is a little scallywag. A do-person, always busy with pulling pranks. They're inseparable, but use it on many occasions to trick others around them, much to the displeasure of those others. They are warm, but not good with trust, I guess… I guess it is because I couldn't provide a good father figure in their live. My husbands… they left. Eventually. And I couldn't keep them. Not that I minded, on a personal level my marriages were more like business-contracts, but for the girls… It is so unfair for the girls… I just wish…'

'He,' Andrea touched Miranda's arm briefly. 'Don't kill yourself over it. I think you're a wonderful mother, the way you speak about them can't be more filled with love. And if the men couldn't bring it up to act like a true father figure or husband then they didn't deserve to be part of your family, and you and your girls would be better off without them. Because if they are as strong and close as you describe them, then they'll manage, and grow up into fine woman. I dearly believe that.'

Miranda looked a bit aghast at Andy. Did she really mean it? _Apparently so. _She couldn't remember the last time someone called her a good mother. Her husbands always rubbed in her face that she was failing at parenthood. The only thing she ever agreed about with her husbands it seemed. Well, apart of being frigid and closed. But that was more an reoccurring reproof they shouted at her than something she full heartedly agreed with. Yes, she had been closed, but they didn't show particular interest in her. More busy with being with the Miranda Priestly and showing her off like some prize than with caring about getting to know who she was or what she thought. They seem to mistake the want to possess for interest. And once they found out she wasn't one to be possessed, well, mostly then the frigid-calling part begun. _And now this silly girl undermines both statements. All this talking that you do, sharing personal information. Not minding to be touched. _In fact, where Andrea had put her fingers her arm had tingled_. You know what happens if she'd pass this all to the press, don't you? You'd be splashed out on page 6 for weeks. 'Miranda empty's hart at local coffee-shop'. They would eat you alive. _She looked at Andrea again. _No. She would never do that. The girl was innocent close to naïve. She had no idea who she was, the clothes of Andrea alone could tell Miranda that already. _

'You know you should bring them sometime. Andy smiled. It would be lovely to see them.'

That astonished Miranda. No-one had shown interest in her girls, ever, other than to get to her. Stephen, that lowsy man, had only been nice to them in the beginning, and only when she was around. How dreadful she thought he would turn and be a father figure. One of her greatest mistakes. It was the only reason she married him in the first place, and she regretted it every day. He turned out to be the most incompetent excuse for a man, sharing a space in her rank list with Irv Ravitz.

'Perhaps.' Miranda said. And after a short while. 'Sometime.'

Andy smiled. 'So… Coffee? Or telling me about the 'fidgeting'?'

Miranda looked coolly. 'Really, must you bore me with such questions? The answer being self-evident.'

A beautiful clear laugh crossed the room. 'Coffee it is!'

When Andrea returned to her with an excessive cup filled to the rim and an espresso Miranda expected the espresso to be meant for her, but to her surprise Andrea pushed the big muglike drink in front of her.

'I made you a Cafe Latte. It's the most varying coffee throughout Country's.'

Miranda's eyes changed into an amused sparkle. She enjoyed listening to Andrea's coffee talk.

Andrea saw it. With more figure she continued. 'You see, in America we use the Italian name, but do not exactly follow their recipe. Whereas Italian café latte is like an enormous cappuccino, we here use a Lungo as the base for the Coffee. Makes it an 50% coffee, 50% milk drink. It is by the way the only milk-added coffee that uses Lungo as a base. The milk can be both mixed foamed-warm milk or just warm milk. Yours is the last one, giving it a soft touch.' Andrea's eyes seemed to follow her words, her pupils dilating a bit at the word 'soft'. Giving Miranda some more warmth.

'Latte macchiato, the other variant of coffee that uses a great amount of milk, is meant to soothe, to comfort. But Café latte is more to… reload. To take a real break, but also to remind you that your work or day is not yet finished. It is a coffee that you'll have to personalize, given its many differences.

Where in French it tastes like a Grand café, which is a double café crème and thus made with cream instead of milk, in Switzerland it is like a café renversé where it contains of 40% coffee and 60% milk. In the Netherlands they actually call it 'wrong coffee'. There, It used to be decent to have a little drop of milk in your coffee, but not too much, therefore the wrong refers to 'socially unacceptable'.

_Just like us._ Miranda thought. She looked at the latte. The cup was too big to lift with one hand, so she carefully placed the fingertips of her left thumb and forefinger at the rim, taking a small sip. _It was heaven._

'Its… acceptable.' Miranda nodded. _The girl seemed to know her well. Anticipating her need and changing it into the coffee she even wasn't aware she wanted herself. _Putting her cup down she started to talk. 'I've read your articles. You need to work on your structure and your punctuation leaves room to be desired.'

Andy had to switch modes. This was Miranda the superior, giving critique to make her grow. Not Miranda the mother who spoke with soft glimmering eyes about her daughters.

Miranda looked at her with both eyebrows raised.

'Ehm, did you ask me something?'

'By all means, Andrea, slowness is not becoming you if you want to be a journalist. What are you planning to do with the articles? Save them under your pillow and sleep on it? Do not tell me I wasted my precious time reading them only to hear you changed you mind and wish to be a barista forever?' An exasperated sigh.

'No. no of course not. I just, ehm, don't know really… you think I should send them to newspapers?'

'Unless you prefer your mothers knitting club-paper that would be a start, yes.'

Andy turned a little red. 'Okay. I'll try to send them.'

'Try? You fail in walking to the post office at unpredictable times? Your laptop has a mind of its own and withholds secretly your mail correspondence?'

'God, Miranda, I'll send them okay! I'll even add a letter saying that they should publish them if they value their life.

'Good.' Miranda seemed not to object to the idea of threatening.

Andrea laughed out loud. With a wide grin she said: 'Thank you.'

'Really Andrea, I do not see reason why you woul-'

'No, Miranda, I do.' Andrea touched her hand briefly with her fingertips. Again very short. 'Thank you, for reading my articles and helping me. I do not know, but I can guess that you do not have that much spare time, probably none. So I feel very honoured that you took time to read something that has absolutely no benefit to you. It is a genuine nice gesture. And I appreciate it more than I can express.'

_Genuine and nice. Those hadn't ever been used to describe Miranda since, well, ever before. This girl was….. _'Well. Then. You're welcome.'

Andrea smiled. _Andrea smiled a lot. _

'Did you know your eyes become little more pale when your stressed?' Andrea blushed. _Where did that come from? _'They returned to a calmer shade now that you're here. Like clear blue.'_ Why do I always feel the need to say inappropriate things? _

It caught Miranda off guard. _Had she been looking at me that well? _'I've never noticed.' She clenched her jaw. It came out harsher than intended, and she saw Andrea cringing at her words. So she changed her tune of voice. Unclenching and giving an inaudible sigh. 'But then again, just as in your articles, your eye for detail is remarkable.'

The rest of their coffee they drank in silence.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Well, a bit later then promised. But things got busy. Correction: still are. So, sorry, updating will be a bit slower.**

**Someone asked me of all the information about coffee was correct: yes. At least the technical/theoretical part of it (how to make macchiato, when to drink cappuccino, different taste of beans, structure of Lungo vs Americano, different cultural interpretations and recipes for the Café Latte etc) (guess what I do as a part time job to pay for my study ;) ). **

**The interpretation about the function of the coffee types… Well, that is my mind, but I try to stick to the 'general' opinion. Macchiato is generally referred as to be soothing in its nature (logical because of the endless amount of hot milk in it and blabla). So the café latte is less soothing (lungo based - more bitter) but still a bit soothing (still lots of milk) (really, go and try out for yourself), hence my interpretation from the former chapter. **

**Anyway: Thanks for all the reviews, follows and favourites! :D.**

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Andy stood in front of her mirror. Nothing seemed like her own clothes. Did she really own these? Had she worn these without being consciousness of them? They were horrible. How would she be able to face Miranda? _ Granted, she had never thought to need something 'perfect'. Just okayish had always been enough._ But Miranda looked always so neat. Like she had an endless wardrobe.

Okay focus Andy, what do you need to do today: Meet Miranda and her children.

What impression do we have to make: good. Definitely good.

Do we have to move, breath or walk? Yes, unfortunately so.

Is it in the evening or daylight? Day. Skip the gala dress.

Conclusion: Nice, but walkable. Neat but casual. No jeans, no skirt. Slacks. Yes. Definitely slacks. With a nice top. Lingerie? _Why would the fact if I wear lingerie matter? No, no going there with the thoughts. _A jacket. Black. Black is neutral right? But perhaps too dark. Hmm, How many slacks do I have that fit in both nice but casual? Only the black and brown ones. Wel.. then…I guess brown it is.

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'Girls, go put on your jackets. Caroline, don't walk away without putting your plate in the dishwasher, remember what we talked about? Always clean up before leaving. Cassidy, for you the same. We will be leaving in ten minutes. I am going to change into something suitable, wait for me downstairs.' She kissed both her angels on the top of their heads. 'Let's make it an fantastic day, shall we? Remind me not to forget to take the camera with us.' Miranda walked to the third floor where her bedroom was headed. Today she and the twins would go to the zoo. Partly for their school assignment to observe an animal, partly to just have a little family time. Sunday was her –rarely used- free day after all. Before the zoo they would drop by the little coffeehouse to meet Andrea. She hadn't told the girls that they would, and a twinge of guilt twisted in her stomach, but she didn't knew how to bring up the subject. _Mommy has a friend she wants you to meet_? That either sounded like a new partner, or like the faux friends she played hostess to at carefully chosen times. Better to just go and skip the labels.

She choose a white wrap-around blouse from Versace and a pencil skirt from Dior. Combined with her three inch black Prada heals and her crème Michael Kors coat she would be both shipshape and modest. Not too showy, minimizing the chances at getting caught by the press. A good outfit for a hopefully lovely day.

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When they stopped in front of Andrea's shop the twins immediately sensed the change of plan. Their faces darkened with dislike, already anticipating some work related matter that their mother had to do because 'something got up'. Moms favourite excuse. When Miranda stepped out the car and opened the door to let out her children, they groined and sulked behind her.

When they stepped in the shop their expressions went from loathing to confusion. This was not a place their mother would do business. Definitely not chic enough. It certainly wasn't some designers home. In stereo they spoke: 'Mom, why are we here? This is not the zoo.'

'Girls, mommy is in urgent need of coffee before you go scare the animals.' She met Andreas gaze who had been watching them since they entered the shop. Miranda sent a reassuring nod to tell her that it would be fine. The girls, on the other hand, looked annoyed at their mother.

'You always need coffee. Why don't you just buy a coffee to go at Starbucks-'

'they know you there and give it within 3 seconds-'

'and then we can spent more time at the zoo.'

'Girls, we are not in a hurry,' Miranda said directive. She was determined to have an Andrea moment before going to the place that made her smell like (and changed her children into) animals. 'The zoo will be open all day, and besides, good coffee is worth waiting for.'

That made Andrea grin.

'Waiting is boring. Coffee is boring.' One of the twins spoke, she had a slightly smaller face than her sister. She looked stern. _Probably Caroline. _Andrea decided to join the conversation.

'Really? Did you know the old Aztecs paid with coffee beans? It was their substitute for money. People killed each other over it. Doesn't sound that boring to me.'

The eyes of the other girl began to twinkle. _Probably Cassidy. _The girl who had spoken looked at her with a bit of scepticism. 'Well, we don't live in the time of the Aztecs. And who are you?'. A glare definitely inherited from her mother was sent at Andrea. Miranda wanted to correct her daughter for being rude but Andrea was faster.

'I'm Andy, and I work here. And who are you?'

'I'm Cassidy and I do not work here.' Came the witty reply.

'Cassidy? Hm, I thought Cassidy's were more the outgoing type. But you don't seem like the football or climbing trees girl. You seem more tidy, your dress is very neat. Your more a girlygirl. So you should have a girly name. Perhaps I can call you… let's see… Caroline? I think that would fit you better.'

The girl stared at her, completely shocked. _This Andy girl knew them! And more: she could see the difference between them!_

'Wow. How did you do that?' Cassidy said

'How do you know us?' Caroline said a millisecond after.

Andrea Laughed. They were adorable kids. She liked them already.

Your mother told me a bit about you two, and it seems that her descriptions were correct since you seem to me like two total different persons. Andy smiled. But, she continued, it also seems that I have to disappoint your mum. You see, normally I'm closed on every first Sunday of the month, which is today. So all my colleagues are spending their time with family or something. Leaving me a little short handed in serving your mums coffee. I guess unless I find any help, I'll have to apologize, but I'm not able to make any drinks, certainly not something as special as your mums latte macchiato.' She sighed dramatically. Both the girls started to talk, their demeanour and scepticism forgotten like snow in front of the sun.

'Oh please Andy, can we -'

'Help make Mommy's coffee? We'll promise to -'

'Not drop anything or pull pranks.'

The looked at her with pleading eyes. Two mischievous little redheads who wanted to make the most of their precious time they had with their mother. Andy pretended to think about it. Twisting her jaw and squinting her eyes she said: 'hmmmmm…. I don't know. You see, it is very difficult and it contains a secret I cannot actually tell you. But probably you are not interested anyway since you found coffee boring.'

'Oh but please! Please! We promise to -'

'Never tell anybody - '

'The secret-'

'And I never meant it-'

'coffee is not boring.'

Together the stretched the word: 'Please?'

'Well…. Okay then.' She sighed again. 'I suppose two is way better than one. Caroline, grab a large glass, Cassidy, take one of the pistons that are already clicked in the machine, you can empty the old coffee in the knockbox by slamming the handle against the rubber. I'll go get a stool.' The girls started their instructions while loudly cheering. Andy putted the stool in front of the machine. 'Caroline, climb up here, so we can fill your glass with hot water.' Caroline eagerly did as told and pressed the hot water button Andy pointed at. 'You know why we do that? To warm the glass. Because when it's cold and rainy like today, you want a warm glass to press your hands at. And, if we pour the warm milk into the cold cup, it loses its warmth to the cup very fast. And a cold latte macchiato is not that tasty.'

They filled the glass with hot water. Placing it on a plate she turned to see that Cassidy had eagerly emptied the piston. Grabbing a jug and bottle of milk and a towel she signed Cassidy. 'Hand the piston over to Caroline.

Caroline, with the towel you can wipe the last coffee from the piston, make it blink like a knight in shining armour.' She smiled reassuringly at the girl.

Back to Cassidy again she smirked. 'Now I think you would like a little foaming of milk won't you?'

The girl grinned her biggest grin. 'Let me see… First, we need to fill the jug halfway with milk. Which is about half a centimetre under the beginning of the spout.' Cassidy carefully filled the jug, not letting any milk splashing around.

'Nice! Now, climb the stool, so that we can pull the jug under the steam wand so that we can blow your mum, I mean the milk, around.' The girls giggled. 'Take one hand and place it at the stomach of the jug. With the other you'll hold the handle. Hold it a little slant, with the black spots where the air is coming out just under the surface.'

Andy took place behind the redhead and helped holding the jug in the right angle, so the milk would start to foam. 'Okay, if you turn that knob, air will come out here very fast. It will blow the milk in circles, like a little whirlwind. The milk will also start to rise, so we slowly have to lower the jug while whirling. Not too slow, then the whirlwind will stop, but not too fast, cause then will be having milk splashed all over you, and we wouldn't want to have you mum complaining about getting your pretty hair and clothes filthy now would we.' The girl smiled at the thought of getting clothes ruined. _Definitely Cassidy then_. 'When we feel that the outside of the jug gets nicely warm, like delightful-shower-warm, we turn the jug so that the steam wand presses right into the jug. That is the moment that you will discard your hands from the jug its stomach and only hold it at the handle. I shall tell you then when the milk is hot enough so that you can close the knob. Understood? I don't want you to hurt your hands.' Cassidy nodded. 'Promise me?'

'Promise.'

'Pinky promise?' Andrea held out her pink.

Cassidy accepted. 'Pinky promise.'

'Good. Now turn that knob like a sailor turning its ship.'

'Aye Caipt'n' And Cassidy turned the knob like her life depended on it.

The milk was foamed with a bit bigger airbladders than preferred, but the girl looked incredibly proud at her work. That melted Andrea's heart a little more for the two adorable redheads. And after all, it was a macchiato, it could stand a little bit of flakyness.

'Now we bump the jug a little onto the marble, makes the bubbles on top pop. Then waltz the milk, make slow circles with the jug. Yes, like that! See, it gets Pearlcoloured, that means that the foam and the milk are totally mixed and that there are none too big air bubbles in it anymore. The foam gets a little sweetness of the milk when we mix it. Caroline, you hold the glass a bit slant, and Cassidy, you'll pour the milk in it. Fill it to the rim. Very good. You are talented! Perhaps I can hire you to work in the shop sometime.' She winked at Miranda, the girls practically beamed like Christmas lights.

'Well, now we have milk! Which is like the biggest part of the job. But just as important is the coffee! Caroline, how's the piston? Wow, it is so shining I might need sunglasses to look at it. I'm impressed. You see that big grinder over there?' Andrea pointed at a machine where on top was a cabin full of dark coffee beans. 'Let's put the piston at the knob underneath it, and press the sign with one cup on it.' Caroline did, and the machine grinded some beans and dropped it in the piston. 'Now this little thing over here is called a tamp and is used to compress the ground coffee. Just press as hard as you can, while I hold the piston.' After that they clicked the piston into the machine and held a little can underneath it. The coffee leaped into the can while the girls watched the colour changing with fascination.

'Okay, now we come at a difficult stage of the making. Caroline, I left this part for you, because it takes great precision, and you seem just the right girl for it. We have the warm milk in the glass, but now we obviously need to add the coffee from the little can to it. But! Here's the problem, the coffee needs to be in between the milk and the foam, mixing with warm milk. In order to get that we first need to decide if the milk and foam - that had been mixed in the jug- have separated again. Andrea dropped herself to the height of the girl, so that they would see the same. Their eyes barely came above the counter. Do you see a line forming between the two substances? She asked her. Caroline squinted her eyes and looked at the glass. 'Yes, there it is!' She pointed at a small and precise dividing line was in the middle of the glass. _Perfect, _Andy thought._ Adding the coffee always made the foam layer a bit thinner, so it would become a wonderful balanced latte. _'Great. So if we slowly add the coffee it will settle between the two layers, but,' Andy started whispering 'Here's the secret: if we add just a little drop of cold water from the tap, the coffee will repel the milk a little, creating a dark layer of coffee, and then a lighter layer with coffee and milk underneath it, instead of only the lighter layer.' They both nodded with gravity. 'It will separate your macchiato from other macchiato's in the land of macchiato-makers. So….' Andy let her sentence fade out to emphasise the secrecy of it all. The girls were wrapped like they carried high-confidential information that other than the FBI no one knew.

'Well, let's perform the magic, shall we.' She lifted Caroline so that she could hold her hand under the crane. Dripping a few droplets from her fingers in the coffee she looked at Andy to see if she was doing it right. Andy nodded reassuringly.

'Now hold the can about ten centimetres above the glass and pour it in one thin but continuously stream.'

'Why so high?' The girl asked.

'Smart kid you are. It has no reason, other than that it looks like you are some magician brewing a complicated and utter secret potion.' She laughed, Caroline and Cassidy joined.

After adding the coffee the three looked exceptionally proud. Smiling Andy said: 'Done! You see the dark spot in the white of the foam? That's why it is called a Macchiato. It means mottled.' She continued in a computer simulating voice: 'High score! Completed: latte Macchiato. New level unlocked, bringing it to your mother. I'll pour us some apple juice.' The girls giggled and carefully brought it to the table, looking happy and expectant.


	7. Chapter 7

**Shorty. But you know, the story was only meant to be around 10.000 words at total. So, everything is relative. ;).**

**I was taken aback in the best way with all the responses on the last chapter. Thank you so much.  
This chapter will not be that great. I wrestled with it for long, long times. **

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Miranda watched it all. It knotted her stomach up inside. How could a practical stranger be so good with her children? It filled her with such a tenderness she wasn't used to. Her Bobbsey's were genuine happy while simply making a cup of coffee for her. Their little eyes sparkling at given so much 'responsibility'. She remembered when those eyes glistered in the same way while giving her paintings with indefinable figures representing 'trees' 'mom' 'Patricia' 'themselves' 'the moon' and other significant parts of their life. That was not that long ago. She was surprised at how fast they were growing up, her precious.

And Andrea could see the difference between them. Saw them as two separate persons, rather than

'the twins'. She knew that that secretly scored points with Caroline and Cassidy. The fooling was fun, but the downside was not being acknowledged as an individual. And being seen as an individual, she knew, was a basic need in life. To be seen as an person rather than a name, an icon, a daughter of, one of two. To be a three dimensional person instead of a flat, carton picture, even if that picture consolidated your position or power. Every human being needed to be seen. To be acknowledged for their wholeness, flaws and perfections included, because when one is not, the loneliness of being not known is unbearable. Impossible to carry with for a life time. Miranda curled her lips. That she would think such thoughts. She hadn't done that in a long, long time. It felt like opening a window in a dusty room.

And perhaps it was true. Her personal life had been a dusty room. Left at the beginning of her twenties, before her career became the room she spent all her time in. Placing bunk beds for her daughters in it. Both because she didn't sacrifice her time to them and because she was unwilling to go back to the other room. Why would she, when it was filled with pain. And after all, keeping her girls close was something she strived for.

But this, days like this made her wondering. If she should perhaps, try to unlock the door to the dusty room in her heart. Or at least, to push her ear against the wood to listen if there was something left in it. Some… Life of some sorts. Perhaps she thought. Perhaps. _At least, I can try to do this more often, spending time with both Andrea and her girls._ _Maybe she'll take me between her arms to show me how to foam milk. _She smiled wryly. The thought was both ridiculous as pleasing.

'Mom?' Cassidy shook her out of her musings. Two pair of hands were holding up a plate with a large glass on it. She needed only a flash to readjust. 'Yes Bobbsey's? Oh! That looks beautiful darlings.' She dared to take a brief look at Andrea after looking at her children. _Yes, perhaps I meant you too. _Andrea blushed.

It was pretty. It looked like a really tasty macchiato. There was only one problem: the foam. She hadn't had anything with foamed milk since being a little child. She detested the complicated way of drinking it. Spooning it felt like she ate something, but foam didn't taste like food. But drinking it… well, that spoke for itself. Still, she couldn't very well spoon the foam now, could she? Even she knew that was not the way to drink a macchiato. This would have been so much easier if she had been at home only with her daughters. They looked at her so expectantly. There was no way of denying this. She closed her eyes a for a short moment and inhaled. Then, took a big sip from the latte.

Andrea turned around with the apple juice she had poured in glasses when she caught sight of the most unexpected thing she ever thought to experience. Miranda, surrounded by her giggling daughters , with a moustache of foamed milk. Miranda, the regal woman, the distant woman, the woman with not _ever _anything out of place. It was a heartbreakingly intimate sight. And so absurd, that she couldn't help giggling with the girls. She sat herself in front of Miranda while placing the apple juice in front of them. Next to her sat Caroline, who sat opposite to her sister. Grinning she said: 'Girls, your dad looks an awfully lot like your mum.' It made the twins laugh and Miranda smirk.

The older woman wiped her moustache away with an napkin. Her eyes sparkling with amusement.

'I can't help it that moustaches just become very well on me.' She coquettishly moved her shoulders. And then Miranda swiftly turned her head around and looked at Andrea with a copy of her glare that Andy had received a couple of times. 'But that will never, _ever_, be repeated. Am I clear about that?' Andy faked her submissive voice: 'No Miranda. I'll sign a non-disclosure agreement on it. Right away.'

'Good. Make a few extra for future subjects.' They all giggled again. And while drinking from the wonderfully tasteful macchiato that seemed to hold the special feeling of extra delight that came with consuming something made by someone you cared about, and chatting and getting to know each other an hour slipped by.

The girls were restlessly wiggling on their chairs. They wanted to go to the zoo, and even though they liked their morning interruption a lot, nothing could beat watching animals. Andy noticed it. 'I think your daughters are called by the jungle drum.'

'Yes, it seems so. Better answer that call before they escape their cages of their own.' The girls stuck out their tongues to both Andy and their Mother. Nothing as goofy as adults making jokes about you. Then Cassidy enthusiastic asked: 'Cant Andy come with us?!' Caroline smiled at her sister. She agreed. That would be fun.

Miranda looked for a second at Andrea and turned then to Caroline and Cassidy.

'Well, I think Andrea has a lot to do on her Sunday afternoon of freedom-'

_No I haven't. I didn't plan on anything so that I could spend time with you for as long as you would spend time with me._

'- so she will be coming with us some other time.-' _This way she won't need to decline. A rejection would mark a dark edge at the end of the forming memory, better to avoid that. _

'-right Andrea?'

_So she doesn't want me with them then. _'Y-yes, yes of course. I have to do… all kinds of.. you know, Sunday stuff.' She smiled absently at the girls.

There was an awkward silence. Neither woman looked at the other while the twins communicated vehemently with each other without words, after a few seconds Caroline shrugged her shoulders and stood up from the table. 'Okay. Well, by Andy. It was fun.' She grabbed her glass and brought it back to the counter. Caroline joined 'Yes. I liked foaming milk.'

Andy was glad they broke the silence. She smiled sincerely at them, they were wonderful little kiddo's. 'I also liked it a lot. Come by any time. Sometimes it is busy, but I'll promise you to make a little room for you.'

'Thanks Andy! We will! Mom, are you coming?' They were already standing at the door with their coats in their hands, waiting impatiently.

'Yes darlings, let me say goodbye to Andrea and then we'll go.' She got up and stood still in front of Andrea, not knowing what to say.

'Well… have a lovely day.' Andrea spoke. She wanted to get over with it. They were not used to actual 'goodbye saying'. Normally there was no one but them, so no necessity to measure their endings. Most of the time Miranda just said bye or that she had to go and their farewell fled by quick and impressionless. But with a third party, even it was just two twelve year old twins the 'normal' rules of saying goodbye were activated. And perhaps it meant a more extensive goodbye, it also became a more empty goodbye. A goodbye that was not special anymore, for she or Miranda could have it with anyone.

'Yes, thank you.' Miranda responded. 'Both for the lovely macchiato and the morning. I enjoyed it, and I believe my girls did as well. But that they already told you.'

'Yes. It was my pleasure, and for you counts as well: come by at any time.' She slightly smiled at their inside conversation. In Miranda's eyes crossed something that was very valuable.

'I shall. Bye Andrea.' They exchanged air kisses. Miranda smelled heavenly.


	8. Chapter 8

**Okay :). Another one. Because It's my birthday! And because I am asked to do the valedictorian speech! (okay, that makes me actually die a little inside, but you know, also bit happy).**

**But ehm, after this no update for about two weeks I think. Speech preparations are stressing me out already.**

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It was a late Monday evening when Miranda came into the shop again. She looked flawless, but tired, fine lines around her eyes and mouth. It must have been a rough day. Andrea greeted her with a warm en bright smile. 'Good evening Miranda. Good to see you again, how are you?'

Miranda sighed. 'I'm fine. Though that seemed to be a rare occurrence today, as I was surrounded by incapable and incompetent staff. It is beyond me why it is not possible to actually produce any work for some people. It is after all what they are paid for. And if it is so important to talk about the weather they should have applied for different employment.'

Andy laughed. Miranda was perhaps icy, but witty and verbally very strong. 'Well, luckily for you the day is over. Take a seat, I'll make you some coffee.'

'Actually, I've been at my desk for the whole day, so I think I'm going to take a little walk.' It made Andrea a bit confused. Why did she came in the shop to leave at once? 'Oh. Okay. See you n-'

'Would you mind to accompany me?' Miranda interrupted.

Andrea looked surprised but happy. 'Of course. Let me grab my keys to just close the door. I'm sorry but I have to return afterwards, my stuff is too much to carry around on a casual walk.'

'Really Andrea? Stuff?'

'Sorry' Andrea smiled apologetically, turning a little red. Miranda had the urge to trace the blush with her finger from Andrea's neck up to her cheek. Instead she just stood neutral, watching how Andrea closed and locked the door behind them.

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They walked in silence. It was dark, these winter evenings, and every time Miranda and Andy walked by a lamppost, Andy glanced up to see Miranda's silver hair lighten even more. The woman was so beautiful. Miranda herself seemed lost in thoughts. But after a few blocks, and a dozen lampposts she asked without looking at Andy 'what are you seeing?'

'Nothing. Just… you.'

A bit of silence.

'And what do you think then, seeing _me.'_ Miranda stretched the 'me' as if she was amused and irritated at the same time.

_That you have such beautiful hair that I want to thread my fingers through your silver locks. I imagine how soft they would feel. _'I was wondering if you were cold. The weather is kind of chilly. And your coat seems thin.'

'I'm fine.' Miranda did not look at her.

They continued walking, not talking the whole time.

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It wasn't until they stood in front of the shop an hour later that Andy gathered enough courage to ask Miranda a question. 'You want to come in for a last cup of coffee?'

'That would be lovely.'

Andrea opened the door and looked at Miranda, who had a little twitch on her lips, as if she was thinking of something amusing.

'What are you thinking about?'

'Our first encounter.'

Andrea immediately smirked. 'I remember that very well. You were so cold and impatient that you drank your espresso in one gulp.' Andy now smiled at the memory. That night had been the beginning of enthralling new days. Days where Miranda held a key role in. Days that suddenly were marked by words such as 'desire' 'longing' 'happiness' and 'care'. Miranda did her iconic move of raising one eyebrow. But she could barely hide a grin. 'I can't recall doing such thing. Really Andrea, you must have fallen and smacked you little head on the pavement.' She said mockingly.

'That's what you said back then, Lady! And your face showed such disapproval I thought you would blacklist the whole area.' Another of those delightful laughs that Andrea so often showed filled the room. Miranda decided to tease a little more.

'Silly girl, why would I have said that? I hardly knew you. And I can remember vividly you talking my ears off about espresso or such. I don't think there was any room for me to say anything at all.'

Andrea looked at her with a wide grin. 'You know there is only one way to settle this question, do you?'

'I can't wait to hear your solution.'

'If the case would be that I had been talking 'your ears off' as you put it so nice, then you would know how to drink an espresso the best way because I would have told you, befóre you would have walked away, right?' She looked at Miranda daringly. She would give this woman a bit of her own behaviour.

Miranda looked back with a glare. 'Of course I know.' She huffed. 'Make two and I'll show you.'

Andrea grinned. 'My pleasure. Which beans should I use?'

'Really, Andrea. 'Is this an exam or something? I dearly hope you're not going to question me every step of the way, we'll be sitting her till tomorrow then' Miranda rolled her eyes. _Such beautiful eyes, _Andy thought._ Can't get enough of those eyes. _

'Kenian, they are your favourite, you use them a lot.' Nothing seemed to pass Miranda.

'Passed!' Andrea prepared the espresso's. Miranda observed her gracious movements. She liked watching Andrea while working. She like watching Andrea period.

When finished Andrea turned to Miranda. With the voice of a quizmaster she said: 'Already having the B+, going for the A with golden sticker, heeeeeere's your espresso!' Andrea held one cup in front of Miranda.

Miranda looked at the cup and rolled her eyes. As if she was saying 'really Andrea, such a plebeian way of talking'. Then she looked at Andrea. 'You'll go first.'

Andreas shoulder immediately dropped. Her normal voice in utter confusion. 'Me? What? No, no. I thought that we agreed on the fact that you were going to show me how to drink an espresso.'

'That is correct.' Miranda waved her hand as to say this is so obvious we should not even bother to discuss it. 'However, we didn't discuss at what point I would be doing so. And it seems that it will be after you showed your way.' Andrea looked perplexed. This woman was remarkably sneaky. Trapping Andrea in her maze of calculating moves. She laughed. 'You're incredibly evil, you know that?' She made the mistake of pointing a smirk at Miranda and locking her gaze with Miranda's. She could feel the mockery of the woman in her stomach. She could feel all sorts of things in her stomach. A shimmer of arousal being one of them, among the tug of getting lost in Miranda's nearness. She had to fight that tug.

'Are you backing out?' Miranda dared her.

'No. Of course not.' She blushed. _Caught. You can't back down now._ 'You see, first you look at the espresso. See which colour it has, it needs to be a bit of caramel with speckles of dark wood on it. Not too light or too dark, remember? Then you smell it, the olfactory receptors are directly connect with the brain, that's why smell has such an influence on our taste.' Andy inhaled through her nose. Her eyes fluttering shut by both the scent of the coffee and the stare that Miranda kept giving her. Like she absorbed every detail of Andrea. When she opened them again Miranda's eyes seemed darker. 'If it smells dark, _rich_, then you stir it a little, shake it in a circle motion, to bring out the aroma of the coffee and makes sure the different characteristics blend, and then… take a little sip, like tasting wine, and let it role in your mouth. Like this.' Andrea held up her cup and took a little sip of her espresso.

The moment Andrea swallowed the dark liquid Miranda took two steps towards Andrea and cupped her cheek. Lightly and directive turning Andrea's face towards her. Before Andrea could process what was happening Miranda's soft lips were on hers, pressing gently and in control. It was more than Andy could process. Miranda's tongue glided over her lips, elaborately but slowly sucking them in. And after that, she parted Andy's lips, and Andrea could do little else that give access.

Slowly Miranda devoured Andrea's mouth. Licking every bit on the inside, tasting the espresso on her tongue, on her teeth, her lips, _consuming_ Andrea. And Andrea could only feel, moan and let it happen. Not able to form any coherent thought, overwhelmed by the softness and the feeling of Miranda kissing her. From the back of Miranda's throat came a low growl, another moan from the younger woman was her response. Miranda devoured her.

Then Miranda drew back. With their faces only inches apart and Andreas eyes still closed Miranda spoke a bit hoarse 'I guess I know the best way to taste an espresso, wouldn't you say?' And with that said, she turned around abruptly and fled. Leaving an astonished Andrea behind. _Again._


	9. Chapter 9

**Haha. Okay. So I am not allowed to not update. **

**So, your wish is my command (only this time!). **

**But you know… Be careful what you wish for….**

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The kitchen looked like something had exploded. Kitchenware everywhere, piled up pans and dirty dishes. Andy hadn't had time to clean before Lilly came. So they decided for take-away Thai food. Shoving stuff from the kitchen table so there was just enough space to place the carton boxes, they sat down. Lilly took a bite and moaned loudly.

'Mmmmm. Mmm, mmm, mmm. Haven't eaten this in ages! And I forgot how good it tastes. I mean, once you go all nature style, you're just missing out on fat, bad, and grows things. Luckily I have you to compensate.' Lilly's current boyfriend was a vegetarian and into slow and biological food. Andy liked the guy, he made Lilly more relaxed and gave her space to still meet up with Andy, something the former hadn't been fond of.

'So how's things with you and Mark?' She asked.

'Good, good. He's away for a few days now on some business trip to I don't know, an Arabian state. Far away. Doing business things. And Getting me cheesy souvenirs, I demanded.' She waved her fork in the air as a sign that she couldn't care less where he was. Andy knew the opposite was true. She grinned.

'So I take it you miss him?'

'God yes.' Lilly immediately gave in. 'It's pathetic isn't it? I mean, there goes my all-independent upbringing from my parents. Got smitten once, and its flying out of the window. Like bye-bye rules of life, welcome all-absorbing dependency. It is irritating beyond measure. Sometimes I wish he had an ordinary grocery-store job instead of being an diplomat.' She picked some more food of her box. 'Did you know I sniffed his shirts yesterday evening? Like not for a moment, no, the whole evening! It is terrible. You'll see that next time he's away I'm going to make his favourite food every day and store it in the freezer for when he returns. Please smack me on the head hard when I start doing that?'

Andy laughed. 'Yes, I promise.'

'Good. Then at least someone is defending my principles, cause I'm apparently as sane as a lovesick puppy.' She looked at Andrea, who had a little blush and stared at her food. Odd. Something she had said had hit something. Almost like… 'No! Don't tell me that you…. Really?!' Lilly smacked the carton box on the table. It shook Andy out of her stare.

'What, what?' Andy looked up in utter confusion. 'What are we talking about?'

'About YOU girl!' she pinpointed the fork in Andrea's direction. 'Tell me, is there some… loveeee, hanging around?' She sang the word love while swinging the fork to the left and right. Andy blushed even more. 'No. Of course not. Why would you assume that? And stop poking my eye out. I'd like to see my surroundings a little longer you know.'

'Hahaha, yes and I'm a giraffe. I know you girl, your face is an open book to me. Come on, out with it! Who caught your interest? Oh I hope it's not Nate again? I gotta tell you, you may be looking like a perfect couple, but you bore each other to death.'

'No of course it isn't Nate. We only retried it once and that was a disaster. He just couldn't cope with the fact that my working hours were long, because that happens when you work in a coffee corner you know.'

'Then who is it?' Lilly suddenly chirped. 'Oh my god, I know! The blonde guy, that hotty you told about coming every day to charm you with his golden locks. What was his name again? Christian? And you have sex every evening on the counter. Christen every table in the room. I bet I'm right.'

'No! God, woman, don't be such a pervert. It is not Christian, and I'm certainly not having sex on any of the horizontal surfaces in the shop. The idea! By the way, he is an arrogant douche-bag, remember? I would never do him. All pretty looks, but no inside whatsoever.'

'So spit it, who has the 'inside' to melt your big heart like a goldsmith?'

'Well…'

'Yes…?'

'I don't really know her. Her name is Miranda, but'

'Whoa whoa whoa. Hold it for a minute! She?! As in female-having-breasts-female?' Lilly looked shocked.

'Yes. Female tend to have those you know. No need to put focus on that.' Andy produced something between a snort and a smile. She didn't really think her falling for a woman would be a problem for Lilly, but now she got a little doubt.

'Wow.' It was silent for a second. Then, a broad smile formed on her face. 'Andy, I didn't expect that. But good for you. Tell me more, how does she look like? What does she do? Is she.. you know… Interested?' She wiggled her eyebrows.

Andy laughed. 'So many questions! Where to start….' And then her face lost some glimmer. 'I… eh, I don't know. At first I thought she liked me… but now I don't know anymore.'

'Hmm… What made you think that she was, then?'

'Wel… we ehm… we kissed.' Andy looked unsure at Lilly.

'What? Girl! I'm in here for over more than an hour and you haven't told me all this time? Such details you must tell me immediately when you open the door. Like: hello! I Kissed! A Woman! And now I'm over the moon about her! This is major. Oh I'm so happy for you Andy!

'Yeah….,' Something sad started to grow in Andy's eyes.

'You're not happy yourself?'

'I was. I am, I think, I, I don't know Lills! She hasn't shown up since. It's like… two weeks ago and no signal since. I don't even know where she lives, what she does for work! I bloody only know her first name and that she has two adorable little girls. What's that kind of interaction?' Panic painted Andy's face. 'And I, god, I don't know what to do. I mean I wanted to contact her, search for her. But this is freakin New York. There are a thousand Miranda's in this town. No, correction, a couple of thousand. So I don't know. I really don't know. I don't know what to do, what to… think even. All I feel is so hollow. So empty. And then I think, perhaps, perhaps she'll show up tonight. And then I focus on making the perfect espresso. Time the water runthrough, select the perfect beans, make sure the pistons are shiningly clean, hell I even check if the pressure is still 6 bar, which can't actually change but it keeps me occupied. And then, I try and taste a cup and it just tastes like crap. Like some automatic cheap nine to five work coffee. And then I just, I just…' with that Andy started to cry, heavy sobs that indicated that it was a real clenching of the heart that brought up those tears.

Lilly immediately wrapped her arms around her best friend and started to sooth her.

'Shhh. It is okay. She let Andy cry and rubbed her back. After a few minutes the sobbing had stopped and she held just a sniffing puffed eye woman. 'You're in it deep girl. I've never seen you like this.' Lilly pulled Andy's messy hair back behind her ears.

'I'm so sorry Lills. I didn't mean to start crying, It's just-'

'None of it Andypants. Everybody needs to cry once in a while. And you have hold me countless times with all my broken hearts. So no apologies. I wished I could do something for you, though. But I don't know any Miranda's. Except for my great grandmother, but she's dead. I hope it's not her you're after?'

Even though it was a lowsy joke, Andy had to laugh a little. She felt relieved that she had told Lilly, and she may not be any less deep in trouble, but it felt good to have friends she could count on. 'No I am not. But I think that I might go for her.' Andy tried to joke back. 'Because _she _will probably never come back again.'

'Oh please don't! Wrong images in my head! Ow!'

'Sorry. '

'Apologies accepted.' Lilly smiled. She tried to speak reassuringly. 'But you'll never know. Perhaps she comes back. Perhaps she just needed some time to think. You know. Maybe she's not used to kissing woman. I know I would freak out if I found myself attracted to a woman. It is something most people do not take into account. Give her some time.' Lilly smiled at her friend who looked a little bit, just a tiny little bit more hopeful.

'Yeah…. Maybe.'

'And in the meanwhile, you can tell me all about your hot encounter with this Mirandanwoman. Is she any good at kissing?'

Andy smacked her half grinning on her arm. Lilly was ever the same.


	10. Chapter 10

**Sorry in advance for: not updating much. Things are busy. **

**Thank you all for your follows, favourites and reviews I got. Thank you very much :). **

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It had been a mistake.

She was not used to make them, but she had, she admitted, made a mistake.

A minor one, no need to inform Lesley. Such things happened, the amount of high-suited jerks she knew who were screwing their assistants were more than she could put in a Runway September Issue. She would not start to fit in that collection. She simply refused. And that was the key to life, one had to refuse if one wasn't prepared to pay for the consequences. And she wasn't.

It had been a lapse, not out of nowhere, but a lapse nonetheless. The girl, woman, had been so appealing, with her big brown eyes. So she had, after a long day of working both her job and silent acquirement of army in her cold war with that horrid small man, taken what she wanted. Offering herself a release. And the girl had wanted it too, that much was clear. Which meant there was no harm done. They both had been consenting adults.

It just couldn't happen again. Andrea perhaps wasn't literally her assistant, but certainly had the age – what was it? Hardly 25 or so. It would proof disastrous to be seen with her. Irv would have no problem with insinuating that since she would spend time with such younger persons, she might have coerced that same from former assistants. The only thing needed then was a ex-assistant with a rancour towards her. And those were generously available. Continuing in seeing Andrea would be the end of her career. And she cared about the girl, she vaguely admitted in the back of her head, but by far not enough to risk such scenario's.

The answer had been to not come around anymore. No more talking, no more delicious coffee, certainly no more tasting of soft plumb lips. It was a good decision and she felt quite content with it. Therefore it irritated her beyond reason, that everything seemed to remind her of the young woman. From the way some of the models walked to the apparent come back of cerulean blue. And was it really that necessary for everyone to mention the words 'brown' 'coffee' or 'beautiful'? She sighed for the hundredth time that week.

Nigel looked up at Miranda. He had been fairly convinced that his lay-out suggestions were adequate. He wouldn't claim that he knew her, not by far, but after almost twenty years of working together he could somewhat sense what she would absolutely dislike or like work wise. And his suggestions fell in the latter category. So why was it that Miranda seemed so distracted? As if she hadn't looked at the lay-out at all. Granted, it was her usual demeanour to have a short attention span, and horrible ideas got dismissed within a flash, but to not look at all was uncommon. In fact, she had been like this all week. He got a nagging feeling that something was out of sorts.

'Perhaps we could-' Jocelyn started.

'No.' Miranda waved her hands. 'Please stop bothering me with this… uninspired… half done work, and return when you do actually have thought about where you are working. For your information: it has got to do something with appearance.' She dismissed everyone out of her office and turned her chair. The meeting was closed. Everybody hurried away, their faces in the same state of panic as always. Without direct cues from Miranda, but with the knowledge that everything had to change. And they'd better be good next time. The everlasting pressure.

Nigel hesitated a bit. He frowned while slowly packing his bag. Observing Miranda's tensed shoulders. Even from behind she looked different than normal.

'Since when is 'everyone' no longer a pronouncement that applies to your presence?' Miranda's voice had a sharp edge around it.

Nigel knew better than to answer with a stumble. Today apparently was not the day to enter the dangerous territory called Miranda's mood. 'It still is. Tomorrow you'll have new versions of the lay-out. Have a nice day Mir-'

'Keep it.'

Nigel raised his eyebrows, but didn't vocalise his surprise. Miranda didn't like questions.

Another sigh from the chair, but now a short irritated sigh. 'Keep the Lay out, Just polish the colours of the cover a bit, they're too bright. And have them done by the end of the day, I wish to look at them tonight.'

'ye-s Miranda. Consider it done.' Nigel walked out confused. Of course he would have them done by the end of the day, the book got corrected every day after all. Why was Miranda so distracted? While walking to his office he tried to eliminate all hypothesis for her odd behaviour. The twins were all right, he knew. In fact they were having their piano recital on Friday which normally made Miranda quite bearable. So nothing to bother on the home front. There was no husband anymore. The divorce finalized. It had been a long and nasty process but done since a few months. And Miranda had seem to be relieved of some sorts. More focused. Someone new perhaps? Probably not. Miranda went after her husband's as if they were candidates in an application round. Facts mattered more than feelings. The usefulness of a husband was without doubt measured in more detail than the question if she loved them.

Sitting behind his desk Nigel felt a bit guilty about thinking of Miranda in such manner, but he could not deny the truth of it. Miranda was a closed women, her heart impregnable for all attempts. It was something he admired about her, to be determined in all aspects of life. It was one of the reasons why he would never be able to make it to her position. But it also pained him. He knew he was the closest resemble of a friend she had, and though his loyalty was limitless and he would be content to spend the rest of his life at a considerable distance of the personal Miranda, he really whished that she would find some… softening for her heart. She deserved it so much. Even if she never found love, then just some relief. Someone or something that could help her carry around.

He wondered for a moment that if she'd ever found such thing, she would accept it. Probably not. No vulnerability allowed in Miranda's universe. Such a strong woman. A fort her walls were.

Well, he concluded, he had no clue, like always. Better start working on the cover then. It was his best shot at making her day as fluid as possible. And it was much more safe than putting his nose in her business.


	11. Chapter 11

In her world full of digital traffic, full of e-mails and calls and online versions of schedules and updated digital information Andy loved mail. Just touchable paper mail, which you could open with the excitement and knowledge of that what you were about to see would really be unravelled by your own hands. She was a little romantic and the pleasant feeling of someone who had taken time to write something to her always made her melt a little inside. Old fashioned or not, she often took time herself to write others. Friends, the occasional love letter to Nate, though she stopped that when she found out he didn't care about it. She loved writing, she loved reading, there was no better way to woo her than through a personal paper with ink inscription. Letters were to cherish, she thought.

So she could not deny her pleasant surprise when she received an elegant silver envelope with dark printed (she preferred handwritten, but printed was still nice) ink on it. At the shop. Weird. It lay silently on the floor of the entrance, in between the junk mail and a leaflet about how Jesus could be found. She stared at it, turned it around, but no address was written at the backside. Just shimmering cool silver. On the front was her name, with the shops mailing address. Explicitly meant for her then, but from someone who did not knew where she lived. It stirred questions. Who would sent her such chic envelopes? Her friends mostly sent her regular ones. Brown with crumbled pages in it, where she could detect the dirty fingerprints and the shades that not-yet-dry ink left when hands swiped over it. And they sent them just over to her apartment. This was a rather formal looking envelope, with no hints about who it was coming from. She tossed the other mail aside as she could not contain her curiosity. Slowly, not to tear the envelope too much she opened it.

Inside was a just as silver paper, neatly folded. In elegant typo was the announcement of a gala dated next Friday- evening. Organised by a publishing company called Elias-Clarke. Her heart started to race wildly, was this a mistake? A joke? Did the articles she send on Miranda's advice induce this? Not likely. Some of them were actually printed, which made her incredibly proud, but it was far not enough to be invited for anything, let alone a gala that printed their announcements on silver paper. It was then that she saw a little accompanying note. In a somewhat unreadable handwriting was the actual invitation if she wanted to go and a cell phone number to confirm her decision signed by nobody less then Christian Thompson.

Right.

Andy's happy feeling slipped a bit. She had somehow hoped, for an odd reason that the mail was coming from Miranda. She knew, logically, that since the woman had disappeared that Andy should just take that as an explanation. Miranda came, Miranda went. That's how it was. Go on and choose a new path.

But still her heart had fluttered for a moment. She could not get it to stop whispering and the elegant design of the announcement had instigated that little spark. How wonderful would it be to see her again. To talk to her and hear that incredibly velvety voice carry around the room. She would easily accept the fact that Miranda had left and would wilfully pretend they had never kissed if she could get the presence of the woman back. She still thought a lot about her, _almost period_. It was often that when she saw something beautiful she wished she could share it with Miranda. Compare it with Miranda and conclude that the woman outshone everything. She missed the woman. Their talks and silences and understandings. To her it had felt as if they had bounded on some deeper level, some base underneath all the shells of life and experience and personal walls. Apparently the woman had not felt the same and she tried to not think about that fact too much. Mentally she wasn't ready yet for the downcrumbling of her believes.

The roaring of vehicles outside shook her out of her musings. She read the silver announcement again. It was still as chic as a few minutes ago. Should she go? She was not interested in Christian but he was a charming and good looking person, _okay perhaps a little arrogant and empty, _but he would probably proof to be a good distraction. Lily kept reminding her that she needed to take a break from both work and Miranda. And this was just the opportunity. It wouldn't hurt to have a little fun wouldn't it? She was experienced enough to know how to keep a date at a respectable distance without being impolite. And Christians' ego would survive it if she used him a bit to have a pleasurable evening. Girls were practically drooling all over him, so she didn't need to worry about crushing his heart. And perhaps he was not as bad as she had given him and they could become friends.

Yes, Andy agreed to herself. She would accept his invitation.

Smiling she walked over to the counter and started preparing the shop for opening. She was in a good mood an decided to celebrate her first big event with an espresso macchiato instead of her regular doppio. A doppio, the 'official' name of an double espresso, was perhaps too strong for her mood. She wanted something less forceful. And espresso macchiato was basically an espresso with a little foam on it, without milk. Refreshing but cheerful, like a lemon pastry. Just perfect for a day with pleasant surprises.

Maybe Christian would come by this morning. Then she didn't need to text or call him. It was always nice to say yes to an invitation in person. And it would be a handy to slightly inform about what he was going to wear. She hadn't had any gala dress, so to go shopping was a necessity anyway. Knowing how he would be looking would give her a guideline in selecting her outfit. She became more enthusiastic by the minute.

And the best part was of course: Christian worked in the publishing world. A publishing company that organized a gala with him who knew the guests by person, meant that he probably had to do the fair share of networking. He would perhaps introduce her to a few names. Not that that was her purpose for the evening, she hadn't had any illusions that they would be interested in her and if she wanted to network she needed to make more of a name for herself first. But to get to know them a little, match the face with the name, would be good for her. She had to admit that knowing whom was whom was not her best side. She had never really cared about it, arguing that if her writing would be good that she would climb the ladder gradually but steading. Judging on the inside rather than the package.

Miranda had taught her otherwise. Just by the way she spoke Andrea could tell that she kept track of almost everything around her. Appearance was just as important as the message, because it was part of the message. Strange, how you could learn something from someone just by observing them. They had never really spoken about the business side of life, apart from that one conversation about sacrifices within her job. Where Miranda had said that she kept focused on her goals.

Andy decided to follow the older woman's footsteps with that. Tonight she would Google this Elias-Clarcke thing and its visitors to the gala. She would practice their names and CV's to be perfectly prepared for next week. She already looked forward to it. Research was just her thing.


End file.
